Conscience
by Silenthunder
Summary: Is there any way to show a seemingly unredeemable villain his errors? Scourge finds out that there is, as his apparition-conscience takes him on a journey he'll never forget.
1. The Apparition

**Chapter 1**

**The Apparition**

He walked, stone-faced, through the alleyways, the blood still fresh on his paws. It had come from a lawbreaker, a rogue who had trespassed. He growled. No matter what, no one would undermine his authority again. He would make sure of it.

Passing his guards by with a nod, he curled up underneath the smooth, green Twoleg object that was his throne and his nest at the same time. He closed his eyes, fanciful thoughts of being an almighty terror floating through his head, when suddenly they stopped. He had the uneasy feeling that he was being watched closely. Opening his eyes, he found himself in one of the alleys again, except now mist hung thickly about and he could only see a few fox-lengths ahead. The change startled him.

"Where am I?"

"Hello, Scourge."

He whirled around to see another tom who had been sitting calmly behind him. What was odd about this tom was that he was Scourge's exact double, from blue eyes down to the one white paw, with one difference: this tom had a purple collar that had a little bell on it instead of teeth. And he looked gentler, more serene, then any living cat would be.

"It's good to see you again," the double meowed quietly, his voice echoing slightly. He gazed at Scourge impassively. The mist was absent from the area where they were.

Scourge hissed in frustration and turned away. He had seen the apparition before after he had chased away the dog so long ago. "Leave me alone!"

"I cannot. I am bound to you as your conscience."

"I have no conscience! I do not need one!"

"Are you sure? Remember your kittypet days? How–"

"That life is dead to me, that name is dead to me, you are dead to me. You should not be here, _Tiny_. I left you far behind."

"There is no escaping the past. It is impossible. Just as it is impossible to escape the light. I am everything you should have been, had you had a better life – or if you had not entered Twolegplace."

"I know, you've told me. But I have chosen a better path. Good sickens me. The sight of you sickens me!"

"The path of evil is an easier path, but never a better one. You are indeed sick, Scourge. Your deeds are stained black against your soul," – he gestured to the teeth-studded collar – "particularly with this recent murder. Why did you kill him, Scourge?"

"You know the law of BloodClan. He deserved it."

"You speak as if there was no room for mercy."

Scourge turned to face Tiny. "It was justice!"

"But justice and the law allow for mercy."

"Justice, law, they are the same to me. Mercy is the last option."

"An option you never use."

Scourge glared fiercely at Tiny, who didn't flinch, but remained still. "If you have something to say, then say it!"

The cat studied his face, his eyes narrowed for the first time. "You are so sure that you have life well in paw. But it is otherwise. You must know what you have become, what you are, and what you shall be."

"How?"

The double stood and took a step forward. "Come closer, and you shall see."

He obeyed, slightly out of annoyance and slightly out of curiosity. The apparition wordlessly touched noses with Scourge. Ice and flame streaked through the BloodClan leader's body, but he found he could not move, only stare, startled, into his double's river-blue gaze. The mist swirled about them, and after a moment suddenly cleared away completely. The two cats broke apart. Scourge looked around and was shocked to find that they were no longer in the alley.


	2. What Matters

**Chapter 2**

**What Matters**

They were in a garden washed by sunlight. Scourge could have sworn that he knew this place – the lush grass, the Twoleg nest behind it and the old fence.

_The fence!_

He looked to the south, searching, and – yes! There was the small hole through which he had seen the forest. He turned to Tiny, full of excitement, but the apparition only pointed with his tail in a different direction.

"Look."

He looked, and his eyes widened. He saw two young cats, probably about seven moons old, playing with a Twoleg item, while an older she-cat watched them. He recognized their pelts and voices instantly. They were Quince, Socks and Ruby! But what surprised him even more was the appearance of a small black kit, who cautiously approached the young gray cat.

"Ruby," the black kit asked, "can I play too?"

The gray she-cat sniffed. "I guess."

Scourge was bewildered. "That's – no, it can't be – that's me!" A sudden thought came to him, and he turned to his kittypet double. "Or is he you?"

"You were once Tiny, as am I. You were once me, and I a younger version of you. So he is both of us, yet only one of us. The origin will never be truly decided."

Sighing with frustration, Scourge turned back to watch. His younger self was now crouching in front of the feather on a stick that the Twoleg was holding, swinging it tauntingly. The kit's eyes were narrowed in concentration as he tensed, waiting for the right moment. Then he leapt, but instead of batting at the feather, he snatched it out of the Twoleg's forepaw.

Ignoring the cry of dismay from his owner, the Tiny of the past ran triumphantly across the lawn with his catch. He then proceeded to bite at it, yelling proudly, "Yah, take that, you piece of fur! You're no match for the mighty Tiny!"

Scourge didn't know he was smiling until he saw his conscience looking at him. He quickly acted as though nothing was wrong, and watched as the toy was quickly taken from Tiny by his brother Socks, who accused the little one of 'not playing right'.

"So ambitious," the double murmured. "So full of life. He was at the best of times, despite being abandoned by his family."

"The past is dead to me," Scourge protested. "I have left that life for another."

Tiny blinked. "Are you sure that the past does not matter, Scourge?"

As he spoke, the wind started to blow. Scourge noticed that the scene was seeming to melt around them, revealing the colors leaf-fall. Leaves were underneath his paws now instead of grass. "Where are we now?" he asked.

Tiny's deep blue eyes were sad. "The place where your purity ended and I became a fantasy. The day you left all you held dear to seek out revenge."

Pained cries met Scourge's ears, and he realized what was happening. "Oh no...no, no, no!" He bolted towards the source of the sound, fear and anger flooding his veins. Soon the awful scene came in sight, the time when his nemesis had attacked him. Tigerpaw growled as he raised a clawed paw, with the one named Thistleclaw urging him on. Just as Scourge was about to leap to the kit's rescue, a figure blocked his way. He fought to get past, but his double would not move.

"Do not waste your energy!" Tiny warned. "It would be of no use anyway. They cannot see, smell or hear us. This is only a memory, and we are but shadows that prowl along the blurred edges." Scourge reluctantly stopped trying to push past him.

As they watched the kit being saved by the one called Bluefur, the apparition continued. "Does the past matter to you now, Scourge? Of course it does, for the past makes us who we are. Tiny could have gone back home after he had fled, you know."

"My mother never cared for me," he muttered.

"She always did, but you were too blind to see it. She grieved a whole quarter-moon once she discovered that he was gone."

"What?"

Tiny looked at him gravely. "Are you so far from the ways of love that you have forgotten what it is? Take this lesson to heart, Scourge: Love is stronger than death." Tiny seemed to be fading; Scourge could see right through him. His voice echoed loudly. "Expect me again at the next new moon!"

"Wait!" the BloodClan leader shouted, but Tiny was gone; the wind shrieked painfully in his ears, and suddenly he heard only silence as he awakened in the night, breathing hard.


End file.
